Affaire de Coeur

by Stephanie O’Hanlon

  “Why is that?” I asked, sitting forward on the chair. “Colette says he blows hot and cold.”

  She nodded. “Yes, he gets distracted. Being that he is musically inclined, he listens to everything. He knows the gossip around her. He does not want to get involved, but he cannot fight his feelings. Think of how hard that has to be. He is convinced of his love for her until he hears something about her. Then, he finds himself shaken. Like most men do in such a situation.”

  I looked down at the book, running my hand over it. “I see.”

  “That is not my point, though. I just want you to know, darling. If you ever need someone or a place to go, my little pied-a-terre is always open to you.” She sat forward, grabbing my hand and holding it in hers.

  I smiled. “Thank you, but I am sure that things could not possibly go that far.”

  “You would be surprised,” she sighed, “but I put it out there, so you know.”

  I nodded, holding onto her hand. “Yes, I do, and I thank you.”

  We decided on taking a turn around the grounds, as it was now a bearable temperature outside. Walking out arm-in-arm toward the hedge maze, we stopped as Colette and Étienne stumbled out of it. Colette was straightening her hat on her head and kicking at her skirt of her orange gown as she saw us. Her face was flushed and red as she stopped, and she hit Étienne on the shoulder.

  “Rose, Maddy. What are you two doing?”

  Rose looked to me before she looked back to them. “It is a lovely day, and we thought a turn around the grounds was the ticket. What were you two doing?”

  Étienne cleared his throat, looking to his feet as Colette straightened her shoulders out. “We thought the same. Just taking a turn around the maze.”

  Rose looked back to me, again. Her right eyebrow rose quite high as she smiled, looking back at them. “Well, isn’t that nice? Great minds think alike. Come on, Maddy darling. I think it best we see about the construction.”

  She pulled on my arm, turning me around and back the way we came. We walked past the fountain and down the path toward the construction, where the shell of the structure was already up. Three steps led up into the pavilion. Eight columns were set up, and that was it. As I heard, the Marquise had changed her mind and said she wanted a roof on it—a domed, ugly thing that quite matched the chapel.

  Rose stopped and turned to me. “Please tell me you saw that they were doing a lot more than walking around that maze.”

  I nodded. “They were up to something. What did you hear? You have to have heard something. What was Constanze going on about on Friday?”

  A few workers walked past us. All of them acknowledged us before they continued on.

  She licked her lips. “Well, word is that when Étienne visited Colette a week ago, they were found in the games room by one of the servants, and Colette was not in the best position.”

  My eyes were wide with shock. “They were…they were—”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “She was apparently on her knees. He was leaning against the table, and she was…apparently well skilled with her mouth. At least that is what the servant was blabbering about.”

  “What servant?” I asked, thinking of who would possibly do that to Colette. Most of the servants would. After all, she had thrown china at them and verbally lashed them on several occasions.

  Rose shrugged. “I don’t know. No names. They were always referred to as ‘the servant’ and just that.”

  “Do you think it is true?”

  “Well,” she looked around once again, “what did you hear that night?”

  I bit at my thumbnail and my face turned scarlet. “I was busy with Lucien.”

  “Oh.” She smiled, shaking her head. “That’s unfortunate. Perhaps Constanze wasn’t fibbing as much as we think.”

  “If she wasn’t? What business is it of ours?” I asked, crossing my arms. “I must admit, I am not exactly in the position to pass judgment, as I have been sneaking a man into my bedchamber, a man I am not even married to.”

  “I suppose my record is not squeaky clean, either,” she said, kicking at the ground and looking at her foot. “It is actually out right filthy.” Her eyes flashed at me, smiling wickedly.

  I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “Who cares if she has been with Étienne? What does it really matter?”

  Rose nodded. “Yes, I know. You are right. Enough of this. Let us go back to the house and get you a macaron or two.”

  I nodded, turning with her as she grabbed hold of my arm and linking it with hers. We made our way back to the house. As we walked into the salon, Colette stood from the table, Étienne nowhere in sight.

  “I know what you are thinking, and it’s—”

  “None of our business,” I finished her sentence. “We are going back up to the parlor and perhaps play a game of Piquet.”

  We stopped in front of her. Her face was in utter shock. She had, no doubt, made an entire speech on her privacy and doing whatever she pleased.

  “Oh,” she said finally, looking down at the table.

  “Has Étienne taken his leave, already?” Rose asked.

  Colette nodded slowly. “Yes, he has.”

  “Hmmm, too bad,” Rose hummed, turning to me. “Let us start that game, shall we?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  On Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, the Vicomte Armand Durand was scheduled to hold Colette’s lessons.

  It was Tuesday, July tenth, and the Vicomte was nowhere to be seen.

  Colette sat in the salon, tapping her foot. The time crept by, getting closer to one in the afternoon, then two, then three. Finally, a note arrived at the house stating Armand would not be able to give the lesson.

  To compensate, Colette invited Étienne over in the evening, and Rose was invited to keep me company. Of course, Colette and Étienne disappeared and were nowhere to be found for nearly an hour. Étienne left shortly after.

  Wednesday rolled around. The time crept by, one, two and then three in the afternoon. A note arrived again saying the Vicomte would not be there for the rest of the week.

  To compensate, Colette invited Étienne yet again. Rose cleared her schedule to keep me company, and the two of them ran off for an hour. No one knew where they ran off to, and even worse, no one asked questions as to where they went or what they were doing.

  On Thursday, Colette didn’t waste time in inviting Étienne for a third evening, but much to everyone’s surprise, a letter arrived around three in the afternoon from Armand. She stood in the middle of the salon, holding the opened letter in her hand and staring down at it.

  I walked in and stood by the doorway, my eyes drawn to her slumped shoulders. It must have been uncomfortable against the stiff pleats from the sacque back of her striped, orange gown.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She turned to me, shaking her head. “Armand. He has decided it would be best if I found a tutor elsewhere.”

  My mouth fell open. “Well, why? Did he say why?”

  She shook her head. “For personal reasons that conflict with his assignments. Not that it matters, does it? To hell with him.”

  I looked down at my hands, nodding. Well, I will need to tell Lucien…

  “Oh, we will need to stop in at one of the merchant des modes in town, today or tomorrow, if we want our gowns to be ready by your birthday ball.” She wadded up the letter and threw it on the table.

  “A new gown? I cannot afford that, Colette.”

  “It is my birthday present to you. I told you that before.” She turned to me, crossing her arms.

  “That is too much, Colette. The ball and the—”

  “You promised! You said that I could. You cannot just change your mind!” she snapped.

  I sighed heavily. “All right, all right. Fine, yes. When will we go?”

  “Let’s make it tomorrow. I am going to get Étienne over here.”

  “I have to write a letter, myself. I may sit out on the terrace for a bit, to get as much a
ir as I can before the storm moves in.”

  She nodded, turning back toward the table and looking at the balled up letter.

  I turned out of the salon and into the dining room, making my way up to my bedchamber. Once inside, I sat down at my secrétaire and began my letter to Lucien.

  Thursday, 12 of July, 1770

  Monsieur,

  I regret to inform you that due to recent events, our days together have come to an end. The Vicomte has decided to no longer tutor Colette in music.

  Did I scare you? I read that line over again, and it sounds as if I am trying to end us, but you know I would never do such a thing. I am actually almost laughing, thinking of you being scared at such a thought. How wicked of me!

  But sadly, my darling, we will no longer be able to see each other during the day at all. I am concerned. Do you know any details on this?

  You do not know the anguish I feel. It is true. It is not enough to only see you at night, in my bed. I wish I could see you at all hours, whenever I wish to see you. I know what you will say—only another three weeks. A little while longer.

  Forever yours,

  Mademoiselle B.

  I folded up the letter, poured the wax on it, and pushed the seal into it. Brielle walked in after I finished, curtseying.

  “I am sorry, Mademoiselle. I just came to fetch you a new pitcher of water.”

  I shook my head, smiling. “I was actually going to call on you. I was wondering if you could find a way to have this letter sent. Discretion is extremely important.”

  She nodded. “Certainly. I can take it myself, if you like.”

  My eyes brightened. “Really?”

  She nodded, again. “Yes, Mademoiselle. I can run errands for you, if you wish. I am to attend to all your needs.”

  “Oh,” I said, smiling. “Well, please. If you could. And,” I walked over to my secrétaire and pulled out a few Louis’ for her. “Take this for your trouble. I feel awful having you do these things.”

  She shook her head, but I pushed the coins into her hand. She reluctantly took them, nodding. I handed her the letter, thanking her again as she curtsied and left the room.

  I turned toward the window, walked over to it, and stood in front of it. I looked at the fountain and the trail that led off to the forest and the orchard. I then turned to my right to look down the way toward the hedge maze. A dark cloud was inching over the sun. The whole area below was covered in a slight darkness, the edges of the cloud alight and shining before it moved off the sun, uncovering it.

  As was normal with summer, it was hot—dreadfully hot. Even my little yellow pet-en-l’air did not help in the heat. I knew, just as everyone else, that just because a storm was on its way doesn’t mean that the heat would break. My heart felt like the sun did, stifled. Only my cloud was not going to move until I saw Lucien later on in the evening.

  What is going on with Armand? Why has he been scarce since Thursday of last week? That has to be the longest that he has not visited upon Colette. What of his letters? Until Tuesday with his brush off, it had been almost a week since he sent a letter to her.

  I was almost angry—angry with Armand and his “personal reasons” —but that was silly. Being angry because he had a conflict was stupid, even if it did put a little distance between the man I loved and myself.

  Punishment, I thought as I turned toward the bed. After all, I went to bed with a man before we were married, let him up into my own bed, and ran around without anyone knowing. What better way to punish me than to push me away from him?

  I made my way down to the salon, out on the terrace where it was still quite hot. The breeze was beginning to cool, but only slightly.

  I had a hat on my head. The wider brim of it sat low on my head, covering my face from the sun whenever it decided to peak out. I sat with my thoughts—not a book or even a friend—though I did hear Colette and Étienne giggling, making their way up the staircase. Perhaps they were making their way toward the parlor.

  “Oh. Good afternoon, Mademoiselle.”

  I looked down to the bottom of the terrace steps and saw Cleante—his face still clean-shaven and his eyes upon me.

  “Oh, good day. I assume that work is going well?” I asked, sitting up straight.

  He nodded, walking up the steps. “Yes, very well. We will be done a day early, I should think.”

  I smiled. “Well, that is certainly good.”

  He nodded again, crossing his arms against his chest and standing in silence as he looked at me.

  My eyes scanned around. “Am I keeping you from something?”

  He shook his head. “Oh, no. I am…I should go.”

  I watched as he fumbled his way into the salon, walking away awkwardly, silently, and as quickly as possible.

  I walked into the dining room where the meal was already set out for Colette, the Marquis, and myself. Of course, the Marquise decided to take her supper in her private dining room.

  Colette sat at the head of the table, toward the salon. She faced me as I stopped in the doorway.

  “Ah, come to join the living?” she asked, grabbing her napkin off the table.

  “Why do you say that?” I walked over to the chair to her left, sitting down on it, and Toulouse trailing in after me.

  “You were sulking in your room all day. One would think you were really the one who was disappointed with Armand for discontinuing my lessons.”

  “I was doing no such thing,” I said as I pushed my shoulders back. Some servants bustled in and placed plates of food before us. “I told you. I was writing a letter. Toulouse, go on. Go cause trouble somewhere else.”

  “Oh?” She grabbed her fork, picking around the plate. The cat did as I said and pranced off. “And to whom may I ask?”

  “I was answering a letter from the Comte,” I said plainly. She knew that Lucien and I still wrote each other. She just did not know of its contents.

  “Hmmm. Whatever happened to that man in the country? I never hear of you speaking of those letters, anymore.”

  My fork ripped the piece of chicken on my plate apart easily, and a deliciously spicy smell sauntering up to my nose. I looked back at her. “He does not write me as often, anymore. Just another friendship I have acquired.”

  “How exciting,” she said sarcastically, bringing her fork up to her mouth.

  “I enjoy making new friends.” I grabbed my glass of water, taking a delicate sip from it.

  “Yes, but romantic friends are so much more fun.”

  Before I could answer, we both looked up at the Marquis. He stomped into the room and sat at the opposite end of the table. A plate was quickly served for him by one of the male servants.

  “Evening, Pa-pa. How was your day?” Colette asked, smiling sweetly.

  He eyed her carefully. “All right. What do you want? Where is Colette, and what have you done with her?”

  She scrunched up her mouth in annoyance, but a smile lingered at the side of it as she shook her head. “I really just want to know how your day was. Is that a crime?”

  “Hmmm,” he hummed low, shaking his head as he grabbed his napkin and shook it out. “Busy, busy as usual. I do not wish to sound like a repeating music box, but I am going ask you girls, again. Have you have seen anything unusual around the grounds, lately?”

  My brow furrowed as I shook my head, with Colette following suit.

  “Why?” Colette asked, finding her fork, again.

  “Oh, nothing. Just hearing some servants blabber. It is nothing, I am sure. Though, I may investigate it further.”

  “How is the Marquise’s garden project coming along?” I asked, remembering Cleante’s comments earlier.

  “It looks good,” he said, grabbing a forkful of food off his plate. “Should be ready in time for the ball. Which reminds me. Colette, I got your note today about you needing to go into town for new gowns.”

  “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked, sitting back in her chair.

  He shook
his head. “I find it odd that you were inquiring about it. Usually, you just go into town and charge away. It is not any different, now. Do as you please, and I will front the bill.”

  She sighed. “Better to ask now than have you scream at me later. Am I not right?”

  He shifted in his seat, his posture falling forward and hunching over—very ungentlemanly. “Well, as long as it doesn’t cost me an arm and a leg, it’s fine. Don’t go overboard with it all.”

  Colette smiled and nodded, looking back down to her plate.

  We all ate in utter and complete silence for the rest of the meal. I could feel the tension in the room. Things were beginning to shift.

  I sat with Colette in the parlor, again in silence. As much as I wanted to make conversation, I could think of no subjects that we could speak about. She disliked the subject of Armand. Rose and I decided that the subject of Étienne was none of our business since we, ourselves, had been entertaining men in a scandalous fashion. We had no place to judge.

  I could not speak of Lucien, as that subject angered Colette all the same. She thought I was wasting my time, because he was so wrapped up in this other woman. Even worse, I could not say anything about the actual relationship between Lucien and myself, and not just to Colette, but to anyone for another three weeks.

  Lucien and I had decided that we were going to push our meeting time to midnight. This gave him time to sleep a little longer and finish the last of his errands, which were picking up as the middle of the summer approached. More balls and more little parties, all which he would only stop in on for a few minutes before leaving.

  We would run up to my bedchamber, Colette sauntering off to bed moments before we reached the top landing. Both of us ran quickly into my bedchamber and closed the door.

  He sat on the bed as I put away his things, my hair and nightgown shuffling around me.